


Safety and Risks

by pinkparasol



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, M/M, relationship if you squint and tilt your head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkparasol/pseuds/pinkparasol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red Alert has many issues that he thinks about, even as a well meaning and overly kind junior medic adds to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety and Risks

He had been a watcher for as long as he could see within his memory banks. Silently taking note of those around him and using it to shift things to better protect those who walked by him cycle after cycle without a flicker of actually seeing him. He had been a silent mech, and skittish even back then when the grumblings of discontent amongst some of their kind were barely audible. That painful shyness actually a blessing in a way, as before the war no one really talked to a low level security bot, as any questions or concerns would be directed at the higher ranked enforcer bots that would then send a databurst of the problems for him to figure out in his sector. He had been content with his life of video and audio feeds, and cycles of dealing with the heavy wires attached to his frame as his processor collected and sorted through the data as his frame automatically went about in absentminded movements of daily motions within the small windowless room of his.

He never really wondered or wanted for the life he saw on the other side of his monitors. He was happy with the fact that he was keeping these mechs and femmes safe so that they could continue to enjoy their lives out there amongst each other.

Smokescreen and Ratchet, both surprisingly, agreeing that this long period of isolation he had lived through before the war was the main reason he ‘glitched’ when his processors and emotional chips couldn’t handle the claustrophobic press of others around him with nothing there to keep them separate. Finding the small security rooms of the various bases he was assigned to as the equivalent to a safety blanket for him. It actually took the crash landing of the Ark for him to actually see and acknowledge that he was afraid of everyone around him and was the main reason he would fritz and flail when one of the pranksters would destroy or cause a camera to malfunction. Because it meant he would have to leave the safety of his walls and monitors to fix it, often times going out into the far too wide and open space that laid outside of the Ark.

It was why they had pushed him to socialize and had sent Inferno to pester him when it became apparent he wouldn’t put forth the effort himself. His social interaction programs having never truly been used and confusion of everything around him feeding into his shyness and the paranoia that had formed out of fear of others. Having seen what his fellow Cybertronians could do in many situations through his monitors over the many vorns, the bad standing out sharply in his memory files. Making it harder for him to trust when he knew how easy it was for someone to act differently when they didn’t think anyone was watching.

For a while he had hated it, but he now clung to this odd concept of friendship that was pushed on him but a pair of meddling health bots and an overly gung ho fire truck. However, he wasn’t dependent and clingy to Inferno as everyone seemed to believe. He nor Inferno were stupid, and both knew that under other circumstances and variables Inferno would have never voluntarily extended a hand as he had done under the hints and comments of Smokescreen and Ratchet.

It was okay though, he was used to their gazes and what they meant. Optics never really looking at him. Red Alert the medical patient. Red Alert the glitch. Red Alert the Security Director. Red Alert the broken. Red Alert who needs protection from himself and others. Red Alert the annoyance. Red Alert the possible traitor. He was used to and welcomed even the fact that no one really looked at him without their gazes already with a label that may or may not be true about him. The only mech who constantly looked at him as nothing more and nothing less then Red Alert was his Prime and thus was normally avoided. (Though the guilt of doing so was there as he knew from watching their leader, that Optimus was wont to blame himself for everything, even if it was Red Alert’s fault for being a coward to run from someone who saw him for him.)

He was happy with the half acknowledgements and nothing else. Which was why he was not prepared for what happened.

It was an odd feeling when he woke up out of another medically induced recharge. His sensors whining as they scrambled to be fully operational and noticing the quiet of the medbay. No sounds of Ratchet grumbling at an awake patient or slowly walking amidst any that are in stasis or recharge. The lack of presence jarring and sending his protocols into making him attempt springing off the berth and into a more secure location. Only for his joints to not obey and only a mechanical whine of systems that did not appreciate such sudden influx of energy, even as the soft clink of metal upon metal of someone walking from the area of the small office that Ratchet used mostly for storage then an office, coming towards him. The frame resolving itself into a designation and manual overrides of his initial panicked induced protocols as First Aid moved towards him. The junior medic quietly fussing and checking he was fine as he berated himself about forgetting the rotation schedule change to let the Protectobot get used to running a medbay on his own.

Then an odd thing happened as he felt optics on him and First Aid was smiling at him.

Perplexing as it was, his processor latched onto figuring out how he could even tell if the younger mech was smiling or not past the mask and visor, as it was not willing to work out the meaning of why he was being looked at differently. He was being seen as just Red Alert by this junior medbot that he had barely interacted with and only knew better in recognition programs because of his constant trips to medbay.

He did the only thing he could think of and fled as soon as he was able to.

The odd occurrence did not seem to end there though. Every time he was in medbay or part of some meeting involving the combiner team he felt that odd gaze on him. Not used to and not liking this constant stare that did not judge or overlook him like most of the others within the Ark did. The smile though, made it worse as every time his optics came into contact with that visor gaze he could feel that smile being presented to him again. An event that everyone else seemed to be completely oblivious too, and there was no way in the name of Primus he was going to bring attention on himself due to it either. No matter how confused and lacking in direction on how to deal with this.

“Why didn’t you smile back?”

It was a simple and very obvious question in hindsight, but at the time he had only stared in blank incomprehension at the flier that had asked the question. Even as Fireflight gave him a confused look in return at his silence and look for what the aerialbot had considered a simple question with a simple answer. He had been slightly mortified that he was being directly confronted in physical terms and not in a databurst or conversation through the monitors that he almost missed the first few words of what the flier said next.

“Aid probably would like it if you smiled back if he’s smiling at you.”

He didn’t say anything again and fled as quickly as possible. Fireflight didn’t seem that perturbed by his abrupt departure. The question though persisted in his mind as he hid in his office and did paperwork. To smile back would be to acknowledge, to trust someone that was nothing more then a profile in his cpu. He wouldn’t do such a thing as it went against everything that screamed at him within his own thoughts that he wasn’t safe out there, and only alone could he be safe and thus keep those on the other side of the monitors safe.

He had never done well with change as it tended to sneak up on him. As he found himself smiling back briefly one day before fleeing again to his monitors and thick walls.  



End file.
